A Sky of Perfect Blue
by ForeverDarknessFalls
Summary: This is a combination the 1965 movie, A Patch of Blue, and, of course, Phantom of the Opera. If you have never seen the former that is fine, but if you have and liked it you should enjoy this. Modern day, EC.
1. Exciting Possibilities

**A Sky of Perfect Blue**

**Summery: **This is a combination the 1965 movie, A Patch of Blue, and, of course, Phantom of the Opera. If you have never seen the former that is fine, but if you have and liked it you should enjoy this. It is modern day and involves Erik and Christine.

**A/N: **This idea just came to me after watching A Patch of Blue. I highly recommend it to everyone. I have not abandoned my other story so don't worry. It is just taking a long time to update cause college is crazy. Now, on to the story. Enjoy!!!!!!

**Chapter 1:**** Exciting Possibilities**

Waking up, Christine lay still, keeping her eyes closed. It allowed her to remember her dream easier. Last nights dream had been so much different from her others. Much more detailed.

The other dreams began with her standing somewhere unknown to her. It was completely dark; just like her waking moments. Then she would realize her eyes were closed and she would tilt back her head. Not knowing if she would see anything, her eyes opened slowly as if having to adjust to a bright light. But there was not a bright light. Instead, it was what she understood to be an endless cloudless blue sky above.

She sighed at the very thought of last nights dream. This time she had known where she was and why. It had begun with her lying down on the grass with closed eyes. Its soft prickly tips tickled her skin. Her arms had been limp at her sides and her chocolate curls cushioned her head. A gentle breeze danced across her body. She could hear the leaves rustle and the birds sing. She felt the warmth from the kind sun. She hummed to herself softly as she soaked up every sound and smell around her. After a few more moments she would open her eyes and see that same perfect blue sky. Then, just like her other dreams, it ended. Nothing else seen.

This dream had caused her to hope. It had been more real and she knew why. It was the park. She went yesterday and she felt it was imperative she go there again today.

The park had been so wonderful; so full of life. It was nice to be free of this stuffy old apartment once in a while.

There was only one problem: how to get there. Her kind neighbor and employer, Mr. Faber, had taken her yesterday, but he would not be going that way today.

Ole Pa, he was her solution. Surely he would take her if she asked. He traveled passed the park everyday to and from work.

Her spirits lifted, Christine got up, stretched, and pulled on her robe. She nearly skipped over to the oven with joy. Now all she had to do was make breakfast, wake up Ole Pa, ask him if he would take her, and then wake up…Roseanne.

How could she have been so stupid? Roseanne would never let her leave. She never let her do anything. Maybe she would allow her if she begged and promised to have dinner ready on time. It would take a lot of begging.

After popping the toast in the toaster she walked over the Ole Pa and began to shake him.

"Ole Pa," she said. "Ole Pa, wake up. It's time for you to get ready."

She heard the old man stir but not wake. She shrugged her shoulders and went to Roseanne.

"Roseanne," she yelled in the woman's ear.

"What?" the woman muttered as she clutched her head in her hands.

"It's time to get up," Christine answered.

"Not so loud damn it."

"Hangover?"

"You think? Go make yourself useful for a change."

Christine nodded and went to set the table. She heard Roseanne get up and dress.

"Get up old man," she heard her mother yell at Ole Pa just before she hit him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm getting up," he said and turned over.

Christine turned to walk across the room, but knocked over something. She heard it clatter to the floor and open unleashing hundreds of beads onto the floor.

"No," she cried in panic. She fell to her knees and began feeling around for them.

"You clumsy ugly useless girl!" Roseanne yelled. "Why do I even keep you around?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't see-"

"You never _see_ anything," she said cruelly.

"Roseanne!" he screamed at her as he jumped out of his bed.

"What you old fart?" she said rounding on him.

"You know what you fat-"

"Don't you dare," she said pointing a finger in his face. Then she turned around and grabbed a piece of toast. "Don't forget to have dinner on the table by the time I get back," she said to Christine and then walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Ole Pa shook his head and bent down beside his granddaughter slowly. He picked up the beads she had missed and put them back in the case.

"It's all my fault I should not be so clumsy," Christine said.

"No, no. It's ok. None of it is your fault. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, you know how she is. She is just, shall we say, high strung," he said with a smile.

He then picked up all the necklaces and counted them as he set them down in the box with the beads.

"You sure did get a lot done yesterday. Mr. Faber will be really pleased with your work."

Christine smiled seeing an opening. "Yes I did. I was at the park. I think I work faster there." She looked at him uncertainly. "I don't supposed you could take me there today. Could you?" she asked hopefully.

"Well, Christine, I don't think Roseanne will like that too much."

"She never has to know. You can pick me up right after work. I'll even have dinner ready before she gets home."

"In that case…" his voice trailed off as if he needed a lot of time to consider an answer.

"Oh please Ole Pa. Please," she begged.

"Ok, as long as you have dinner ready by the time she gets back."

"I will," she said nodding her head. "I promise."

She quickly made her way to her closet and took out a skirt and blouse.

"How do I look?" she asked when she was ready.

"You look beautiful."

"You're sure? I don't look too hideous, do I?" she asked, still worried.

"You're not hideous. You are quite a vision. Don't listen to Roseanne," he said.

She nodded but did not allow herself to believe him.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ummm, do you know what I did with my teeth?"

"They should be in the glass by your bed."

"Oh," he said and went to retrieve them. "All right, lets go."

Holding on to Ole Pa's arm, Christine existed the apartment feeling that today would be one to remember. It felt almost as if her entire life would change in just a few hours.

* * *

**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think. No flamers. **


	2. Nothing Turns out Right

**A Sky of Perfect Blue**

**A/N: **I am really having a lot of fun with this story. Thank you Sammi Wammi for being my very first review on this story. I hope everyone is liking it as much as I am. Sorry for the short chapter. They will get longer.

**Chapter 2: Nothing Ever Turns Out Right**

Why did he come here? What was the point? Did he really wish to be stared at? Yet here he was in the middle of a large park. He didn't know what had brought him here. He had just been walking and his feet had led him here. Now he wanted to leave and fast. Though there was not a soul in sight he felt like the entire world was staring only at him, criticizing him. He always felt that way, but here it seemed magnified.

If only he had been born with a different face, a normal face. His whole life it had been his curse. He built up a multi-million dollar company from nothing and yet people still treated him like dirt, or they pretended not to acknowledge his very existence.

He took of his jacket, hung it on his arm, and loosened his tie. He began to walk around aimlessly trying to shake off the feeling he was being watched. He would never have thought on a perfect day like this no one would be here. Usually there were mothers with their children or friends hang out. He was glad there were no children. Children were the worst of creatures. When a child saw him the typical reaction was to run and hide behind their mother. Sometimes they would look at him and point curiously. He couldn't stand being pointed at.

But today he was safe from scrutiny. He came to an old beautiful oak tree in the middle of the park. It seemed so lonely by its self, so much like him. The biggest difference, of course, it was perfect, normal: so unlike him. He felt drawn to its elegant wisdom of years. It offered him so much more than the rest of the park. Shade from the sun, and mostly, from others' judging stare.

He walked under its huge branches and felt cooled by the welcoming shade. He turned and leaned his strong back against the wide trunk. A playful breeze swept past him causing the tree to burst with life. He heard the rustle of the oak trees endless supply of leaves. It sounded almost like music in the noiseless park, much like a person humming. Even though the breeze stopped the dancing leaves did not.

How odd that they did not stop their play. But wait, it wasn't the tree anymore. Not a leaf was stirring. It was a soft melodic hum now, he could not deny it any more: it had to be a person. Yet he had seen no one in the park. The park was large, but his eyes had been watchful. There was no way he had missed anything. The only answers left were he was losing his mind or it ad be a bee.

He stood straight up and put his hands in his pockets. He felt he needed to leave before he started to hear voices. Once that happened there would be no excuse. But he still did not wish to leave the magnificent tree.

Another gentle breeze found its way into the trees branches. The leaves danced harder and louder than before. But it wasn't just sound this time. It had a gorgeous melody, a voice, and…words.

It was that voice, that amazing voice. So pure…so prefect. This was Mother Nature at her best. Was it possible to listen to the music of angels?

He knew he could not possibly go now. He had to stay and listen, at least until the music died. Slowly he began to make his way around the trunk of the tree making sure he did not trip over the large roots. As he walked he realized the music was getting steadily louder. He walked only a few more steps and was forced to a halt by the sight in front of him. Blinking a few times he realized he found the source of the music. A girl. Well, maybe not quite a girl, but a young lady.

She was very pretty from what he could see. Her head was tilted downward causing long chocolate curls to fall around her face, shielding it from his sight. She sat elegantly on a green blanket with her back against the oak tree and a large case of beads on her lap. Her delicate hands were busy stringing these multiple sized beads.

But her song, her heartwarming song. Such a beautiful song from such a petite girl. He would be his life she was a performer or at least training to be one.

He desperately wanted to speak to her. Never in his life had he ever wished to speak with someone so much. Actually, this was possibly the first time in his life he wanted to talk to another person. But what if he scared her? He would just have to take a chance.

He stepped forward in the hopes she would see him and not be startled. This way he would not have to say a word. The conversation would just start by itself; nothing would be forced. Just as he hoped, he stepped right on to a dry branch and it gave a loud crack. However, the next events did not go as planned.

The girl's head whipped up to look at him in surprise. Her hands faulted and she dropped her beads. The case on her lap followed next and the now freed beads ran with a mind of their own. The girl's eyes went wide in shock and looked straight at him curiously.

It was his face. He had scared her. He never should have bothered. His love for music never failed to get him into trouble.

"Is anyone there?" she questioned loudly. "Please, I'll never find all these beads on my own."

Taking a moment to process the strange turn of events, he stared, not sure if he should make himself known. All the nerve he had left. There was still time; he just had to be very quiet. She could think it had been an animal. She would never know he was here standing only a few feet away.

* * *

**A/N: Please review. I can't know if you like it if you don't review.**


	3. Company

**A Sky of Perfect Blue**

**A/N: **A big thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I'm glad to know you are liking my story. Here is chapter three.

**Chapter 3: Company**

"Here is that tree," said Ole Pa as he sat the briefcase of beads against the oak's trunk.

"Thank you so much, Ole Pa," said Christine.

When she did not heat respond, she called to him, but again did not receive an answer. She shrugged away the slight hurt and took the blanket from under her arm and laid it next to the tree. She sat down as gracefully as she could keep her skirt in mind. For now the wind was kind, but that could always change.

She pulled the briefcase onto her lap and opened it gingerly thinking of what could happen if the beads spilled everywhere. She picked up an unfinished strand and began to count the amount.

She couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful the day truly was. The temperature under the tree was just perfect. The occasional breeze kept her from ever getting too warm. Though it was an amazing day, it seemed unhappily empty. She couldn't hear any children or adults: no one what so ever. Even though she had only been here a few times, she had gotten used to the laughter of uncaring youths, the constant gossiping of prying mothers, and annoying barking dogs. Today there were only the birds to keep her company in the silence.

She continued to string beads: counting and searching for the right size. It always seemed hard to find just corrected sized ones. Mr. Faber had gotten this case specifically for her. It had many different compartments: each containing different sized beads. At the top were the largest and going to the bottom were the smallest. On the right side there was a huge compartment for her finished product, which were beautiful necklaces.

Mr. Faber would be glad to see so many necklaces completed. The park inspired to work faster. She hoped Roseanne would at least be satisfied. All this work would mean a little bit of extra pay. Maybe it would be enough to make Roseanne think she was worth something after all.

But Roseanne was never satisfied. No matter how hard Christine tried, Roseanne always treated her like gum stuck to the bottom of here stilettos. She never gave up hope that one day Roseanne would care about her no matter how unlikely it was, she still believed. Ole Pa always said Roseanne only cared bout herself and money. At least Christine knew Roseanne would care about the money she had earned.

She tilted her head up and felt a cool breeze caress her face. The day certainly was amazing, yet too quiet. To end the defining silence she began to hum a tune. It seemed to make her feel better almost immediately. She continued stringing the beads at a fast pace. If she kept up her speed she would be finished way before Ole Pa came to get her.

Becoming used to only hearing her song and the birds she was startled by the loud snap of a branch in front of her. In her surprise, the needle slipped form her fingers and fell. She moved to catch it before the beads slid off of the string, but instead only caused the case on her lap to slide right off. She immediately heard her beads roll away to the ground. How would she find them all? The stranger who had startled her, the stranger would help her.

"Is someone there?" she questioned, hoping they had not left. When no one replied she felt a bit panicked. "Please, I will never be able to find them all on my own." Surely the stranger would feel compelled to help her. Then she heard the shift of someone's feet as if they were uncertain of what to do. Then there was a long sigh.

"Please," she said looking in the direction of the hovering person.

"I'm sorry," came a male voice. It was rich, deep, and powerful, like a direct massage to her eardrums. He stepped forward and knelt on one knee to help her.

Both reached down at the same time and their hands collided.

"Sorry," he said.

"No, that's ok," she said with a smile, but he could see her face becoming red. They then continued to pick up her beads in silence.

The entire time Erik could not stop looking at her. She wasn't judging him, at least not because of his face. The first person that would not judge him because of what she saw on the outside.

"There, all your beads are back in the case."

"Are you sure?" she asked still searching with her hands.

He nodded but caught himself and voiced his reply. She gave him a brilliant smile.

"You have a beautiful voice," he said suddenly, not even thinking it over.

Her eyes became wide and her cheeks flushed with more color. "You heard me?" she asked obviously embarrassed.

He went to nod, but caught himself more quickly. "Yes, I did."

"Oh," she put he palms to her flaming face. "I probably hurt your ears."

"Why on Earth would you think that?"

"I'm terrible. Roseanne always says so."

"You must be kidding. To get a voice like that you must have had training."

She gave him a baffled look. "Sir, I don't know what you are talking about. I've never had any kind of training. Roseanne would never have allowed it. I just sing with my radio."

"Your radio?" he repeated unbelievingly. She got voice from that a radio? No way. A voice like that would take years of formal training. And who was this Roseanne? She sounded like the type of person he always wanted to avoid.

"Ummm, yeah," she said hearing the surprise in his voice. "I know I'm kind of bad but…"

"No your not. Why would anyone tell you that?"

"She's just…I don't know. You really think I am good?"

"Of course. With a voice like that you could be a star."

She let out a small sad laugh and turned away from him. "You shouldn't tell lies just to make someone feel better," she said after a moment.

"I'm not," he insisted. "You are talented and beautiful. I can't figure out why anyone in their right mind would tell you any different.

"But the scars," she said lifting a hand to trace them around her eyes.

"It's not that bad. Besides, it can be easily covered," he said thinking of how his own deformity could never be easily concealed.

"How?" she asked furrowing her brows together in wonder.

"Well, I'll show you. But first, are you hungry at all?" he asked.

"A little," she replied, then her stomach rumbled loudly. "A lot," she said with a smile.

"I'll get you something. My treat."

"No, that is alright. I have to stay here anyway."

"Oh," he said trying to think quickly. "Well, I'll bring you something. Name anything you like."

"Just anything would be great," she said, surprised a stranger would be so generous.

"Ok. Well I'll be back soon then." He got up and began to walk away. He turned when he heard her call to him.

"Sir, might I know your name?"

"Erik, Erik Rousseau. And yours'?"

"Christine Daae."

"Well, I will see you in just a few minutes Miss Daae."

"And I hope to hear you soon Mr. Rousseau," she said smiling at their sudden formality.

* * *

**A/N: Please review! I won't be able to continue unless I know you want me to.**


End file.
